am, and every paddle-blade dripped diamonds.

It is a noble river, this San Juan, with its broad sweeps and curves. At
times it widens to a lake, and again thrusts itself into the shores as
though its waters filled the print of some giant hand that in ages past
had rested heavily with outspread fingers on the yielding soil. Aided by
the strong current we glided on as swiftly as the passing hours. Our
faces were set eastward now, and I waited, breathless, for the day to
wake.

There was a slow parting of the filmy skies, as though Dawn's rosy
fingers brushed aside the curtains of her couch; then came a gleam of
golden hair that slid across her downy pillows. A long-drawn sigh
shivered across the silent world, and with a sudden dazzlement we saw--

--"the opening eyelids of the Morn."

From the southwest a fresh wind arose and swept clean the blue heavens;
and, with the early sunbeams sparkling on the ripples of the tide, the
canoes darted on toward the river's mouth. A heron flew up from the
marshes suddenly, and sailed over our heads on its strong white wings.
As I watched it dip out of sight in the river far beyond us I caught
sight of another gleaming wing that slowly unfurled itself toward the
sky.

Touching the padre's arm, I pointed to it.

"A sail!" he said.

Our canoes quickly sought the curve of the shore and crept with caution
toward the unknown vessel.

"It can scarcely be the Habana ship," murmured the padre, "for the
_Virgen de la Mar_ was at anchor in the harbour when we left San
Augustin, and ere morning the storm had risen, so she would hardly have
ventured forth to sea."

"There are other vessels carrying sail that ply between the fort and
these coast islands. We came from Santa Catalina aboard one of them," I
whispered.

"Yes," said the padre, "but this is too large." He paused for some
moments, and then added: "Do you see the long, straight lines of her
hull, and the square stern? This is no Spanish galley, but a frigate of
English build."

"'Tis the _Carolina_!" I exclaimed, "'tis the _Carolina_!"

"Oh! the blessed, blessed English ship!" sobbed the good dame.

Then all energies were bent to reach her, for it was plain that she was
making ready to leave her anchorage.

"If we could only signal to those on board!" I cried. "Loose your
neck-kerchief, Barbara, and wave it--wave it in the sunlight!"

"We are too close to the shore," the padre said. "She can scarce
dis